roked his beard as usual, and reflected.

"I did mean to push straight on to Santiago," he said, "but--it's a good
bit of a way, to be sure; what do you say, little cousin? tired? hey?"

Rita blushed. "A--a little tired, Cousin Jim; and _very_ hungry!"

This settled it. Captain Montfort bid Delmonte "fire away." The latter
said a few rapid words to Juan, and the scout shot off like an arrow
across the fields, riding as if for his life.

An hour later, the whole party was seated around a fire, in as
comfortable a nook of the hills as guerilla leader could desire, sipping
coffee, and eating broiled chicken and fried bananas, fresh from the
_parilla_. The fire was built against a great rock that rose abruptly
from the dell, forming one side of it, and towering so high that the
smoke disappeared before it reached the top. Thick woods framed the
other sides of the natural fastness, and here the Cuban riders could lie
hidden for days and weeks, unsuspected, unseen, save by the wandering
birds that now and then circled above their heads. No tents or huts
here; the horses were tethered to trees; the commander's hammock was
swung in a shady thicket near the great rock; as for his men, a ragged
blanket and the "soft side of a stone" were all they asked.

Rita had dressed Captain Delmonte's wound, and bandaged the arm in
approved style, Cousin Jim looking on with grunts of approval. He and
Delmonte himself both assured her that, if they were handling it, they
should simply squirt carbolic acid into it, and tie it up with anything
that came handy; but Rita shook her head gravely, and three of her
delicate handkerchiefs, brought from the long-suffering bag which
Manuela had somehow managed to save from the ruins, torn into strips,
made a very sufficient bandage. The wound was, in truth, slight.
Delmonte looked almost as if he wished it more severe, for the whole
matter of bathing and dressing could not be stretched beyond ten
minutes; but Rita's pride in her neat bandage was pretty to see, and he
watched her with delighted eyes through every stage.

"Snug quarters!" said Jim Montfort, approvingly, as, the breakfast over,
he stretched his huge length along the grass and looked about him; and
all the party echoed his opinion. The two captains fell into talk of the
war and its ways, while the women, wearied out, rested after their long
night of distress and fatigue. Marm Prudence chose the dry grass, with a
cloak for a pillow, but